Kingsley Flood - Hard Times for the Quiet Kind
I was born a spark plug girl, cut from heart and iron Papa’s hands were small and strong, Mama’s soft smile wide But I know all the good girls move so slow I’ve been soaking up the TV glow I’ve been feeding mirrors, bleeding on tip-toes Chorus: It’s hard times for the quiet kind They tame their tongues and wait in line While the Cadillac kids pay no mind I don’t want to be the one they leave behind I cut my teeth neath dead heroes, who live on on my wall Their voices blown, their elbows thrown, but that’s not what I recall All around, there were preachers with furrowed brows Poor pundits paid to stretch their mouths But the widest eyes are blind when looking around Chorus Last night I dreamt I was ten feet tall, and I punched right through the roof Right past Papa’s sullen stare, sighing “that’s not what we do” But I wanna hush that quiet and I And I wanna shout it out loud and I wanna climb these walls before they climb all over me Chorus
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